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“As for your guardian, he claimed he received some reading material from his solicitor. If you were interested,” Randall offered, with a shrug.

Her smile brightened at that news. “What should we play?”

“Too few for whist,” Randall said.

“Too many for chess,” Caden said, before muttering, “Thank God.”

Kitty giggled, delighted to be free from her room, safe from the threat of running into Garrick, and in the company of two good natured, non-surly, gentlemen.

“Most parlor games involve a greater number of people than three.” She glanced around the room.

Her eyes lit on a familiar object. “I have an idea. Follow me, if you please.”

She marched toward the sitting area she’d dubbed the man corner, due its sturdy burgundy leather sofa and matching armchairs. It also boasted a good-sized globe, situated between the two chairs.

The globe’s glossy surface and brass axis gleamed, reflecting the muted daylight eking in through the window. She touched the surface lightly and set it to spinning. “Do either of you gentlemen know anything about geography or anthropology?”

The men slanted competitive glances at each other.

“I can’t speak for Randall, but I certainly do.” Caden looked supremely self-assured.

“I was top of my class in world studies,” Randall rejoined.

They faced off a moment longer before switching their attention to her.

“What have you in mind, my lady?” Caden asked.

She gestured for them to sit before lowering herself onto one of the armchairs.

“I propose a game whereby we take turns spinning the globe. I will close my eyes, and when the player whose turn it is calls time, I will place my finger on the globe, like so.” She broke off and spun the globe again.

Next she closed her eyes, and after a brief hesitation, dropped her finger onto the rotating world map, thereby stopping the rotation.

Then she opened her eyes, peeling her finger slowly back to read the name of the target location. “Antarctica,” she said.

“In this instance, whoever spun the globe would recite a little known fact about Antarctica. Such as the median temperature, the first known settlers, the indigenous population, or anything factual, just so long as it’s not too well-known.

The other two players must decide whether the information is true or false.

If they choose correctly, they win a point. ”

“How would any of us know whether or not the person citing these little known facts is being truthful?” Caden asked.

Kitty gave him a tut-tut look.

“In other words, this is to be a game of honor,” Randall stated.

“I have no intention of lying.” She glanced from one man to the other.

They both gave grave assurances they had not, either.

“What shall be the forfeit for the winner?” Caden asked.

“Ah….” She remembered the kiss Zeke claimed in forfeit the night he’d beaten her at chess. Praying her face hadn’t gone pink, she said, “Winner’s choice.”

***

Zeke let himself out of his grandfather’s study, leaving the earl and his long-time man of affairs, Carson Hallis, to share a well-earned glass of cognac.

Irritable after spending what amounted to the entire day poring over estate reports rather than settling things with Kitty as intended, he declined to join them.

He descended the stairs two at a time, anxious to get to the ground floor and finally get down to the business at hand.

At the base of the stairs, he plotted his hunt. Surely Kitty had emerged from her bedchamber by now. She was a social creature by nature and wouldn’t abide staying hidden away all day unless she was ill. Something told him that was not the case.

He’d go room by room, hitting all the shared living spaces 'til he found her. He smiled and set off at a comfortable pace.

At least the morning hadn’t been a total bust. He’d discussed the investigative work he wanted Hallis to assume. Primarily, he sought information on dear cousin Garrick. His history, his friends. Anything that might explain what made the man tick.

Of equal importance, Zeke wanted Hallis to check into his claim on the Maidstone title.

Now that Zeke understood Garrick James’ relation to Kitty, he had questions regarding his ascension to the Maidstone barony.

Not that inheritance laws came up in Zeke’s world often.

Hell, never. But he seemed to recall learning in one of those stuffy classes on codified law a man had to be legitimately linked to the titleholder to inherit.

Laws could change. Probably had. But Zeke believed in being thorough, especially when it came to Kitty. She was his future wife, after all.

***

Kitty preened, having just answered another question correctly. She was having a marvelous time, and hadn’t noticed Zeke’s continued absence at all, or so she kept telling herself.

“We’re all tied. Someone will have to work a bit harder at her trickery.” She waggled her brows and spun the globe.

Peeling back her finger, she read. “New Zealand.” She sat back. “New Zealand’s native people, the Maoris, descendants of the Australian Aborigine—”

“Again with the Aborigine.” Caden threw up his hands. “Let me guess. Another story of British brutality against the natives. I’m beginning to think you proposed this game merely as a way to illustrate Britain’s global villainy. Much more of this and I’m likely to defect.”

Kitty stared at him, a stern expression on her face.

“Yes, my lady?” Caden looked suitably cowed.

“May I go on?”

Caden, ducked his head, grinning. “Please.”

“The Maoris were brutally—”

“You see?” Caden exclaimed, turning to Randall for commiseration.

Kitty didn’t miss a beat. “…expunged from their lands by invading foreigners, until the year 1840 when they signed a treaty with Great Britain, promising them protection.”

“Speaking as a fellow defector,” Randall winked at Kitty, then muttered to Caden, “Where is she getting these facts? Does she have a notepad with history lessons tucked under her skirts?”

Kitty giggled. “True or false?”

“It’s too depressing not to be true,” Randall said.

Caden’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “False.”

Her mouth fell open. “How did you know?”

“The Maoris aren’t descendants of Aborigines. They’re from Polynesia.”

She laughed and clapped her hands together in approval. “Bravo.”

“Blast!” Randall flopped back on the sofa in defeat.

“I believe that point makes me the winner,” Caden said, with a grin.